Night Lord
by Cat in Disguise
Summary: Ezio has learned, through all his years as an assassin of the Order, that he is not the only thing that roams the shadows. But this . . . this goes beyond anything he's ever expected.


**This is my attempt at Vampire!Ezio, sinceI don't see a lot of vampire assassin stories out there. Don't hate me if it sucks (no pun intended)**

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><p>Droplets of the target's blood slid from his blade to the tiled floor as Ezio withdrew it from the rapidly cooling flesh. He owe red the corpse gently to the ground, brushing the man's eyelids shut and murmuring a soft prayer. Muffled shouts could be heard in the distance, echoing up the halls of the mansion.<p>

So, the guards had finally discovered his presence, eh? Honestly, it really did take them quite awhile. He had slipped into the 'fortress' undetected, with no one seeming to detect anything out of the ordinary. Clicking his tongue in mock exasperation, he leapt easily onto a pillar that he climbed to the roof. He sprinted across the rooftop, going unopposed until he reached the very edge. Peering over, he could see the silver reflection of moonlight on the bay below. His eyes roamed the waterway, searching for oncoming gondolas or docks that may slow him down.

He didn't notice the archer until far too late.

An arrow pierced his shoulder, slicing through cloth, flesh, and muscle, burying itself deep within the juncture between his shoulder blade and arm. Pain exploded through him, more than anything he'd ever felt before, and he screamed. A fierce pounding entered his ears, and he faintly hears someone shouting.

"_Commandante, _the Assassin is here! He is trying to escape!" No. No, he would not be captured, not like this. Whipping around to face the direction the voice came from, he allowed his Eagle Vision to activate, scanning the roof for signs of life. A blazing cherry red drew his attention to the guard post he'd deduced to be abandoned at first glance. It worked as a surprisingly efficient hiding place, due to it being tucked in a corner.

"Found you." He snarled under his breath. Calmly, almost methodically, he connected the shooting mechanism to his hidden blade, loaded in a round, and fired. The sound, like a small explosion, ricocheted off the tiles and down into the halls below. More guards would appear soon. At that moment, his wound gave a nasty throb, making him stagger backward. Unfortunately, he had been standing directly on the edge of the roof, so there was nothing there to catch him. He collapsed forward, too dazed by pain to notice anything but the sensation of falling. After several seconds, he hit the water.

The cold water rushed into his lungs, robbing them of oxygen. The terrifying notion of drowning clicked the fragmented pieces of his mind back into place, and he fought his way to the surface. But fate decided to be exceptionally cruel to him. Currents that rested in the lower half of the bay forced him to tumble uncontrollably down one of the larger canals. Icy water enveloped him, reaching into his bones and turning them to ice. All the while, his lungs screamed for air, pushed far beyond their limitations. Less than a minute later, the current subsided and allowed the assassin to wash up onto an abandoned shore. Ezio gasped, trying to expand his lungs, but something much more agonizing awaited him.

His lungs were still flooded with water, and instead of expanding, they contracted to try and expel it. The resulting feeling in his chest, like a giant serpent had coiled around him, and the renewed throbbing of his wound, sapped the remainder of his strength from his limbs. He collapsed onto the sand, welcoming the brief comfort it provided before grains of sand dug into his wound. Distantly, he heard footsteps walking across the sand, progressively getting closer. He closed his stinging eyes. So, the guards had found him, huh? Well, so be it. There was nothing he could do to prevent it now.

He was dying.

The enormous amounts of water that had seeped into his bloodstream had already infected it, and he would suffocate because of the water in his lungs soon. Every nerve in his body crackled with pain, but he couldn't scream. He didn't have any strength left, not even to sit up. He knew he would have to die, everyone did. So, if this was his fate, then let it be carried out.

The footsteps stopped next to his head, accompanied by the rustling of fabric as someone knelt beside him. But, the person wore no armor and carried no weapons. They were too small in stature to be a guard. So, who? In the next instant, he heard a bell-like voice, that of a young girl, maybe, address him.

"Are you in pain?" If he could, Ezio would have laughed. _An obvious question deserves an obvious answer,_ he thought cynically. Maybe the girl had seen him and come down to investigate. After all, she sounded extremely young. His thoughts swam, vision going hazy, windpipe constricting. What little oxygen he'd managed to retain would not last much longer. His fingers dragged through the sand once, leaving long marks. He wished for the girl to leave, willing her to go so she wouldn't see him die. No child needs to see that. But the girl leaned in, her hair tickling his nose, and whispered softly into his ear.

"Would you like me to ease your suffering?" Her words rolled over and over in his fading mind. Ease his suffering? What did that mean? Did she think she could help him, because she would be wrong. He could feel his heart slowing, a chill spreading from his fingertips to his chest. Did she mean . . . that she would kill him? Did she want to end his suffering with a quicker death? But . . . she was just a young girl. Why would she mean -?

"Just hold still. I'll help you."

He heard the distinct sound of skin breaking, followed by a warm wrist pressed to his lips. Through the haze that his sight had become, he could just barely make out a glint of cerise.

"If you want your suffering to end, drink." Ezio blinked blearily at her, unconsciously parting his lips and allowing her blood to slide down his throat. A surge of energy rushed through him, and he gripped at her sleeve, trying to bring her wrist closer. She withdrew her arm from his grip with a satisfied air about her. before she left, she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"I will await you, _Dominus Nocte., _my precious night lord."

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><p><strong>Love it? Hate it? Let me know if I should continue this, or if this is a lost cause. Constructive criticism is welcomed. Flames will be used to make s'mores.<strong>

**Bye for now!**


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